


Shadows and Sunshine

by Gavorchesan



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Action, Adventure, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2018-08-30 02:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8514745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gavorchesan/pseuds/Gavorchesan
Summary: She would fight for the Heavens. He decided she would be be his. Their game of cat and mouse would escalate over the centuries to cumulate in Victorian England.





	1. The Lady, Determined

**Author's Note:**

> Please Review and Kudos if you liked!

**Preface:**

A lady always shows class, despite her circumstances.

 

            This was a cardinal rule that I had quickly discovered, after being reborn into this century. I was not unused to the fact that humans had almost always weakly underestimated the more graceful’ of sexes. This was human. Women did not always have to power or physical strength to defend themselves, thus they were relegated to becoming either put on a pedestal of austerity, or reduced to nothing but harlots and temptresses.

            Regardless, this did not deter me from my quests. I had more then enough time to vanquish the scale of _conquistadores_ that would like the opportunity to conquer me. But after every human existence I took, I merely became stronger, more intelligent, and better able to pave a path for my gender. Besides, with the golden commission from the High God, there was no spirit, reaper or demon who could defeat me.

            And so here, in this city of London, I took upon the opportunity to once again influence and inspire. The bevy female sisters I had visited in my angelic form would set the seeds to create works such Jane Eyre, and Withering Heights. I took ahold of the governesses of the young princesses, instilling ideas about freedom, and female rights. Women began to come into themselves once again, and I knew that my plan needed only a few more careful steps.

            The idea of _pater familias_ would end. I would destroy the corruption that the rich had on the people, and free the women. But to do so, I would need a more center role.

 

            That’s when I was born into the family of aristocrats.        

 

            While this option is not the most preferable, as I can not remember my past lives for a number of years, it was necessary. I had not done it in such a long time, that I was nervous. But, I pressed forward.

            Nine months passed.

            The Duchess of Sussex looked fondly upon the small healthy daughter that was quietly sleeping in her arms. No doubt that she would be lovely. She had met the duke in Italy, and had married him there, then later, in England. She had feared she would have no child, but after a few years, this great joy had happened.

            The father, Augustus Frederick, smiled with whimsy at the end of his wives bed. He was old man by the time he married his second wife, but still pleased there was this one last blessing. Heaven knows his niece, the queen, had her own brood, almost adults at that. This little girl would be the apple of his eye.

She would be Lady Charlotte of Sussex.

 

XXXXXXXXXXXX

            Sebastian Michaelis, the Butler of the Phantomhive mansion had a busy day ahead of him. There was a large ball approaching in the evening, held by the queen, and so on top of the usual housework and servicing was preparing the young masters ball clothes and schedule. It was important he made an excellent impression. There had been much talk behind the Phantomhive Earl’s back- distrust, anger. As well, since there had been an unusual amount of mysterious activity. Petty criminals popping up, death, and other problems that really didn’t bother him.

            Humans were petty, and their ambitions were also. So he was prepared to ignore the usual dribble by preparing the perfect breakfast- Until he saw the newspaper. One of the foolish humans had carelessly left the Earls daily paper folded in a most unappealing manner, and he grabbed it, to put it in it’s proper place.

            That’s when he saw the paper. It would have normal held no interest. On the cover was the picture of a young society lady, announcing her coming out. She looked older then the average belle, but there was no doubt she would be married before the end of the season. She was the only daughter of the Duke of Sussex, rich, and gorgeous.

            But that’s not why he stood, staring at her.

            A small smile appeared on his lips.

 

            “Lady Charlotte. Heh.” With that he turned, moving to prepare the day for the young Lord Phantomhive.


	2. The Lady, Skilled

 

 ****

It was a typical day, here in the great nation of London- Foggy, a little sunlight, and by the looks of it, going to rain at one point of another. Lady Charlotte Victoria Elizabeth Jane, lady and future Duchess of Sussex thought it rather delightful. She sat on her window seat, long blonde hair done up in the most fashionable of styles. She did not yet have on her fancy dress, but her long night robe, and the fireplace in her room counteracted the cool fall air that would permeate through the window. Her maid, Jane, had forced her to huddle in blankets as she read, occasionally gazing out the window to look at the far street below when she took breaks from the large book she had. City living was just simply her favorite.

Her maid once again entered, sighing at her young mistress. “You’ll catch your death, lady Charlotte. And your mother will be less than pleased if she see’s you reading them books again.”

The young women turned, giving a slight shrug.

“Father told me that there is nothing wrong with reading _monsieur Voltaire._ It’s better for me to know the foxes rather than be devoured by one.” Jane sighed, shaking her head. The mistress had always been stubborn about this sort of thing.

“I think the Queen wouldn’t like it Miss.”

“Her own daughters are the ones who introduced me to it! Not to mention to Louise is the one having an affair with that sculptor.” The maid went bright red, dropping the sheets the she had brought in.

“Mistress!”

“There’s no use in being coy Jane. The entire royal class is aware. This is an age of revolution and intellectualism. Why, when Albert-”

“The deceased _king consort_ my lady-”

“My _uncle-in-law_ is the one who told me that women were just as capable of men. I mean, it’s old Victoria who is being stubborn.” The lady shook her head. While Lady Charlotte was very opinionated, she was also adept at acting like a typical society darling. It was more of a household secret that the future heiress was more... well, masculine in her ideals, than feminine. Not that the maid disagreed with all the young women spouted. She personally felt that giving the good women of England more rights would be jolly. But sometimes the young chick would say things that would make her own mother sent her to her room, forbidden to read for a few days. That was the worst punishment the girl could have.

           “Besides, Auntie Victoria won’t do anything to me- she so adores papa.” The maid had to concede to this point. Yet, the Queen had seemed less like herself of late. She seemed to also be spend much favor on various parties that had no right to her audience. Like the young Earl of Phantomhive. He was so young, but had too much favor for good taste. But what did she, a simple maid know? It had only been recently that the Young Earl was well enough to be back in London.

“Regardless miss, it’s time for you to get ready for the ball.” Lady Charlotte sighed, putting her book down..

“I suppose it is. Put the lamb among the wolves.” She stepped down and the lady went to the closet, pulling out the many layers. Other maids began to enter, ready to turn their mistresses into a the refined lady she was. The nightdress was pulled off, revealing her pantaloons and chemise. Over that, her padded corset, the maid clipping the metal pieces together. Another took to tying the back, the ribbons pulling tight to emphasize the already slender waist and ample bust. Then, the light petticoat, tied in the back with a drawstring, falling over the layers. Blue ribbons interlaced the look.

Because it was an important event her mother desired she wear a large hoop tied onto the corset, made to hold out her dress. The bustle also tied onto the corset, her behind thickly hidden. Then, the connected skirt and train, both being long, and needing to be bustled, or else the streets would make it dirty. So far, most of these had been a vestigial white, trimmed with a blue lace, but the bodice had been embroidered with silver and blue thread, lace sleeves and trimmings completing the rich look. Then, matching heels, and her hair was pinned up as a maid placed fresh flowers and a hat on it. The richly adorned girl was then sat in front of the mirror, and she nodded in approval. Then, Jane applied make-up, koal for her eyes, and rouge for her lips.

The dressing had taken up a good portion of time. As the young lady stood at the foot of the stairs, her father had been there awhile. Her mother had yet to show. The old Lord of Sussex looked down on his beautiful daughter as she had satin gloves placed on her.

“Charlotte, you’ll attract more attention than is good for you.” She looked up at him, smiling. They both knew she’d much rather be with him in his study, eating and reading.

“You know mama. Sometimes I think she’s out to get rid of me.” The old man chuckled, knowing that his wife was desperate to secure her daughter in the most advantageous marriage as possible.  She had _lists_ of potential suitors, ball dates, and other things to achieve this end. It was his own personal opinion that it would be more advantageous to send his daughter to Cambridge then this ball. But he loved his wife, and so did his daughter, and with good humor they let her play her game, knowing she could not win both of them.

They didn’t have to wait much longer, and the Duchess of Sussex appeared, ushering her small family into the carriage awaiting. Charlotte could tell her mother was nervous, for she kept fiddling with her rings, until her husband grabbed her hand.

“My dear wife, what is a matter.” That was all that was needed.

“Well, I was talking with the other ladies, and they told me that Lord Druitt has been mentioning our Charlotte, and how he is taken with her.” This caused the air to grow a little cool in the small carriage, her father not pleased.

“We’ve discussed this dear. Lord Druitt will not be among the men I will even _consider_ for Charlotte.” The girl nodded with her father.

“I agreed. Besides, he is always so pompous, calling me a dove or something. I refuse to consider it.” The mother frowned at her difficult husband and the daughter that was so like him. Since some ridiculous rumors had come out last year about human trafficking, Lord Druitt she had been forced to permanently cross him off her list. She sighed, her dream of beautiful golden haired grand children flying away.

“Don’t frown love, there are plenty of men for Charlotte.” Charlotte smirked, knowing that her father was bluffing. No one was good enough for her, and she agreed.

“Edgar Redmond?” Charlotte shook her head. “Lawrence Bluewer?”

“No.”

“Herman Greenhill?”

“Heaven’s no.”

“Gregory Violet?”

“Mother.” The women groaned, her daughter’s stubbornness getting to her. By sixteen, she had been wed to the Duke. Sixteen! Her daughter was almost old enough for her status to become a scandal. The queen would not be pleased if her daughter did not follow the example she had set.

“Would you please at least consider Derrick?” Charlotte gave a paused at the thought of her cousin, Duke Clemens.

“Perhaps. If he’s no longer a vicious brat.”

 

There was really no reasoning with this spoiled girl.

 

They soon arrived at the mansion, and one by one stepped out. Footmen stood to attention, and they were announced as the entered, Charlotte saw a bevy of young women, friends and began walking to him. Jane followed, walking quickly to keep up in the tight space, but she was still separated when a couple dancing cut through.

The lady didn’t take note that her maid could not reach her, which quite possibly was also a set up.

A tall, dark haired men stood across the room, watching with sharp eyes at the young women who had entered. She walked over to a group of girls, quite typical of a young female, and commenced talking enthusiastically. Occasionally his eyes flickered to the young Earl Phantomhive, but they would be drawn back in the girls.

After a while the girl smiled, then turned, conspiratorially looking at the door. It was clear she wished to leave. He could tell by the way to kept herself at the center of the group, and most young men who would wish for her would have to subject themselves to the scrutiny of the noble, snobby girls of society. He could tell there were plenty of men that gave her longing looks and would love the chance to whisper sweet words.

But smirked, knowing that this women would not be whooed. She was quick to make her move, turning to the door, and disappearing at the host called for another dance. Her friends wouldn’t notice her absence, her maid cut off. Not even the maid would find her.

He gave another glance to the Earl, busily talking to various parties.

Then he slipped away.


	3. The Lady, Fierce

 

 

She passed various hallways unseen, as she was familiar to the layout. And it was even better news that there were few servants in the halls. Due to the host, Lord Druitt, wanting his guests to feel comfortable and taken care off, they could hardly pay attention to the young duchess who liked to read and say silly things. It wasn’t unusual for her to talk to them about their  _ feelings  _ and such. They had no time for such things.

Her hair, curled and beautiful, bounced as he approached the expansive library. There was no end to the scandalous book collection Lord Druitt had, and she  _ just simple  _ had to sneak in again. Her father may be a little more disappointed in her intellectual pursuits in the occult, but there was something about it that was so attractive. 

She saw the door ahead, pushing the smooth oak to reveal the inner contents. Without a moment’s hesitation she slipped in, shutting the thick door softly behind her. She looked up, pleased that the large clock was still on the wall so she could keep track of time. None of her friends would notice, or they’d claim she was dancing the entire night. She’d leave just in time to catch the last dance, with some decent fop. 

She looked around the walls of highly stacked books her heart feeling warm, feet light. This was life, here, in the silent tomes. Her skirt made a slight ruffling sound against the wood floors, and her slippers tapped softly. She reached up to an eye catching, colorful book on the shelf. 

_ Heavenly forms and legends.  _ On the cover there was a slick engraving in gold leaf, demonstrating an angel fighting a dark garbed devil. Both bodies were intertwined, fighting against one another, but the faces looked pained, like they had no desire to be there. In a moment, she opened it. She was about to make her way over to an embroidered couch, ready to sit down.

There was a footstep behind her. Charlotte turned, skirts flying, book flung out like she would use it to batter the offender. Her features were set in surprise, which turned into embarrassment at she saw the visitor she had thrown the book at.

“Please, forgive me...” She muttered, looking at the tall, dark haired man who had caught her book. His outfit was immaculate, the dark suit of a refined butler. Eyes, a deep brown that seemed to catch the lamplight and gleam red. His dark hair was noir black, and his mouth was in a small smile, as if the whole situation was amusing.

He looked unworldly, handsome and dark there, and she was struck by the fact she hadn’t even heard the door open again. She suddenly felt cornered, skittish, and had a great desire to go back to the main ballroom. For a moment they stood silent. Due to status, it would be inappropriate to for her to introduce herself, since this man couldn’t possibly outrank her. She considered her options, and if she was actually in danger. Her reputation could be if she was caught alone with a man. She was about to walk away, but the man held out his hand, bowing.

“No, Lady Charlotte, Forgive me. I was just admiring your beauty, and forgot myself.” He looked at the book, smirking at the cover.

“We have not been introduced.” Her words were curt, clear that he was stepping over his bounds. The man didn’t falter.

“Not to contradict you, my lady, but we have.” Her eyebrow rose, searching her memory for any glimpse of familiarity. Nothing. 

“Forgive me, but I doubt that.” The man raised his shoulders, shrugging.

“As you will, lady Charlotte. It seems like you have no memory of me. It does sort of burn that I could be forgotten so easily, but alas, it’s the risk you take with this human form.”

Charlotte was done with the impetuous young man that had cornered her. She regained her confidence, giving a large frown. She stepped forward, and to her relief, the man stepped aside. She was almost passed him, when he leaned in, encasing her in his arms. Her eyes widened, and she turned, pushing and offended.

“How  _ dare  _ you.” 

Then he pushed her up against the bookcase, putting his mouth next to her ear.

“ _ Acta non verba, ad victoriam. Alea iacta est,. _ ” Her breathing became short as the man whispered the nonsense, warm breath licking her face. Her heart beat loudly and her eyes wide and glassy. “- _ amor vincit omnia.”  _ Her body relaxed. “ _ Do you think you can rebel me in this form?”  _ Her eyes started to close, looking into the red gaze of this stranger.

She didn’t know what would have happened if he continued, but she was shocked as suddenly she fell on the floor, back against the wall. The book fell to the floor, the sound muffled by her dress.

The door opened.

“My dear! My precious Charlotte!” She looked up into the shining face of Lord Druitt, blonde hair falling fashionably over his shoulder. Not only that, but Jane, her maid was behind him. A wave of utter relief fell over her, but also confusion. The man... he was nowhere in sight.   

They both saw her on the floor, looking pale and peaky. 

“Oh my, what is the matter?” The maid rushed forward, picking her up. Charlotte bit her lip, breathing deeply.

“I... I was dancing, then was feeling faint. I just needed get away and site.” A lie for the Viscount. Her maid, closer, saw the book. As if reading her mistress's mind she picked up the book, slipping it into the satchel which she always carried.

Lord Druitt put his hands to his face. “My dear dove! If I would have know, I would have pummeled the man who danced too viciously with you! Tell me, and I’ll rectify this wrong!”

Charlotte, feeling better sighed. “My lord, I’d feel like you were a hero if you could fetch me a glass of water.” The young man, eager seeking opportunity to impress, bowed.

“With no second of delay, my love.” He turned, calling for a servant.

“Well, he’s a handsome fella, but just daft, that young Lord Druitt.” Jane said, appalled by his obvious lack of intelligence. 

“I think it better he is so. Jane, please help me find papa.”

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

The young Lord Ciel looked to the butler that had magically appeared by his side once again.

“Where were you Sebastian? I’ve been waiting.” The demon looked to his young master internally chiding him for his impatience. After all, there was good reason for everything he did, including following a young women.

His eyes caught her as she entered the ballroom, the maid by her side. His eyes narrowed, as the maid looked at him, reflecting the cool gaze. It was only a moment, but he caught the message the frumpy maid was sending.  _ Watch your back. _

He knew his own gaze held a message.  _ Try and stop me. _

The maid was the first to turn away, the young mistress looking pale. They found her parents quickly, the maid quick to slice through the crowds. The young women still had composure, but the Butler knew it was mostly bluster. It was just his luck, that the father was a personal acquaintance of the Earl Phantomhive. 

Yes, things would be different this time. 

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Charlotte remained rattled as she found her father, and the old man knew that his daughter was not her normal self. Much to the Duchess’s dismay, the Duke began saying his goodbye’s. She waited near the door with Jane and her mother, watching her father. She frowned every time she saw a batch of dark hair. 

Finally, after her father felt the need to farewell a young teal haired child, the Earl Phantomhive who her maid disliked, they left. 

  
  



	4. The Lady, Gifted

**Chapter 4: The Lady, Gifted**

 

Charlotte had at first refused to leave her room, stating that she was ill. It had been quite scandalous for her poor mother, and many other matrons of the season when she missed the Fall Ball social. Her father, on the other hand, was quick to realize that he poor daughter was not herself. Realizing that women could be fickle, and that occasionally his own daughter could fall prey to strange things, decided that maybe it would be best to leave for a month to the country estate. 

To say that Charlotte was relieved was not a lie. Even her maid, Jane, after all she relieved, needed a moment to step back from the new madness of the her Lady’s blooming attraction to otherworldly beasts. It had began as small goblins, nasty buggers as they were they could also be easily managed. But soon enough Charlotte had begun to attract the less welcome things- minor demons and the occasional ghost or ghoul. Those were less pleasant, and usual led to the strong minded Lady to show extraordinary fits of panic. She had gotten better at hiding her fear, but she still paled when she caught a glimpse of the half mutilated face of a teasing demon. Rude as always, noted Jane.

It had been only by the best of chances, as the carriage had stopped in front of her father’s work, that Jane noticed a chance to help the young girl. Her mother would be staying in the city, and so it was just both girls with their rider waiting for her father to come out of his business meeting. 

Charlotte had been staring out the window, nervous, but relieved to see no demons had noticed her yet. Not that she knew  _ how  _ they knew she was special or anything. She was surprised when Jane grabbed her wrist. She had become used to the informal relationship they had grown in the last two weeks. It had only been Jane’s sensible guidance that had helped her maintain sophistication, the air of charm she had previously flung around. 

Jane opened the door to the carriage, so softly that it made no sound. She slipped out, then Charlotte followed her, noting the dirty building in front of them, labeled with a grimy old sign.  _ Under taker.  _ A funeral parlor? Is that what Jane had found so exciting. She looked to the driver who was looking for him master, so intently he never noticed them slip away. They crossed the street, when Charlotte noticed it. She had to bite her lips to stop the scream, but even then the  _ thing  _ chuckled at her reaction. Jane turned, making a face, then a sign in the air to the pale, ghoulish thing that was floating towards them. As she did, it frowned horribly, gnashing it’s terrible teeth. Even worse, for the first time ever, she heard it speak. Jane began to run, with Charlotte in tow.

“There’s no use in trying it hide the girl,  _ angel.”  _ Jane kept up their pace, heading to the house, the ghost, stalled, began following them. Charlotte was about to scream, which would have been a terrible scene, even on a relatively peaceful day like it was.

But as soon as her foot crossed the threshold, the thing stopped, frowning. It seemed to consider, about to say something, but Jane pulled Charlotte inside completely, then shut the door behind them.

Charlotte immediately felt her knees fail her, and Jane was by her side holding her up. That’s when she heard snickering. She glanced about the room, when she saw a coffin creak open. Then, she actually did scream. Jane had to slam a hand over her mouth. 

“A funny one, this is ey.” A man exited the coffin, long grey hair, disgusting fingernails, and a prominent scar across his pale face. Jane helped Charlotte into an old chair that creaked before turning to the snickering, thick cockney accented fellow. Charlotte gazed nervously at the coffin filled room, holding onto Jane’s hand like a child.

“That little show with the demon was enough to make me chuckle for days.”

“Then we’re already paid in full.”

“He. You angels are always to careful to do so.” Jane’s frown deepened, though she didn’t look upset by the news. Charlotte was surprised to see the man speak to candidly. She had accepted that she and Jane had just gone mad- but now here was more proof that she had indeed been cursed with something extraordinary. Bugger, she thought.  

She gritted her teeth as he stepped forward, his strange black and grey clothing far too large for his spindly figure. 

“Stop scaring my Lady, or I’ll make you regret us coming, Undertaker.” The man looked to her, his smile never falling.

“Of course, I don’t  _ intend _ to scare the sweet lady. After all, I’m sure that she’s had her own scares. But when a demon has marked  _ a human _ as his mate, it’s bound to cause some interest.”

Charlotte didn’t think she could take much more- and she was right. The world suddenly faded, and she felt herself pitch forward.

Jane caught her, carrying her with unwieldy strength. Her frown looked so strict that even the Undertaker  _ almost  _ felt sorry.

“That’s what ye wanted to know, isn’t it?” She rolled her eyes, adjusting her grip.

“I’m sure that this could have been done in a way to not make her  _ faint.” _

“Well, Janey, there’s no real nice way to say it. But here I’ll give you a gift,” To her surprise he put his hand in his pocket, to pull out a thin gold bracelet. “This with help with those pesky, nosey hobgoblins.” Jane allowed him to step forward, slipping the bracelet on the girl since she couldn’t do it herself. 

“One last thing, Reaper-”

“Not anymore, Janey.”

“Fine,  _ Undertaker, _ “ She moved to the door. “Who is currently employing  _ him? _ ” The reaper grinned.

“So ya figured it out already, did ya? M’afraid I can’t be giving out details, or I’ll get me own hide in trouble.”

She sniffed, a little angrily. “So you still do business with him. Shameful. Well next time you see him, tell him to  _ stay in hell  _ before we have to  _ put him back. _ One my college regains her memories, it will be no trick.”

The Undertaker bowed, hat in hand.

“Of course, m’lady. But as ever, we both be knowing he  _ will never listen _ .”

Jane exited the shop.

 

The air was clear, and even the minor demon had not dared the shop of the Reaper. The bracelet would likely mask the mark the demon made, if for only a short time. It would take an actual purification ritual to solve it, but the Lady couldn’t handle much at the moment. Jane frowned, slipping back into the carriage. The lady could pass off like she had been sleeping, and her father assumed so when he entered the carriage, smiling.

 

XXXXXXX

 

It was interesting that his master sold games. Various games, mostly for children, but one of the most popular games was chess. As he cleaned out the library, he let his mind wander to previous memories.

Her bronze skin shimmered as she exited the river, black hair straightened as it was wet. He watched from a distance as she was congratulated, and frowned as she tasted the taste of rebirth.

He was never a fan of baptism. Her name had been Hetshepsit, but the adopted religion she had joined had renamed her Rebekah. Personally, he didn’t feel like the new name suited her- it was to...  _ godly.  _ Like she would forsake all for the God that would do nothing to save his people. 

She had been a princess in Egypt, but here she was a mere women to be married off like cattle. She must have sensed him, for after she had been congratulated, she said she needed alone time.

Later in her tent she had a game, similar to chess, that she was playing with him. He was currently  _ serving  _ the current High Priest of Egypt, waiting to take the soul that would soon receive his goal. Her smile was smooth as she played a move, finishing the game. He had lost- he frowned at the realization, and it was because he wasn’t paying close enough attention.

_ “That’s your problem, Aziza. “ She muttered as he stood to leave. “Is that you won’t take a stand for what you believe is right.” _

_ “No,” He replied, “We just don’t have the same sense of what’s right.” She had to concede to his point. After all, it was an unusal for a demon of a different realm, and an angel to form a friendship. They served different Gods. _

_ “You could choose to stay.” He raised an eyebrow, before opening the tent. _

_ “What would be the point, when you will always choose your God over me?” He left the tent, knowing it was an unfair barb. But, he hadn’t expected that to be the last time he’d see her in that century.  _

“Sebastian!” He heard the shrill voice of his master call, and the red eyed man was pulled back to the present. He looked down, realizing that he had the bible open. He frowned, looking at the passage.

_ Exodus 14:26-27 _

 


	5. The Lady, Studious

**Chapter 5: The Lady, Studious**

 

The air at the Duke of Sussex’s estate was sharp, the cleanliness rivaling the beauty of the Lake Country. London was no compare for the raw beauty, cleanliness and grandeur of the grand estate where Charlotte was currently riding her thoroughbred Arabian stallion. Unlike many ladies who demurred to mares. No, she had overseen her horse being raised, often bottle fed him herself, and whenever she was in the country, would pet him down herself. She had even been choosy on the parents of the beast, making sure the estrous cycle was perfect. She held no illusion about breeding, and few about sex. After all, it was a rather dirty affair, best avoided. 

Charlotte’s hair had been pinned back, but had come loose after the first few hours of easy riding. She took her steed, Constantine the Great, across as many paths as she could find, still missing the endless numbers. Her breathing was hard, but her heart was light, mind restive. After Jane, the maid, had taken her to meet the that terrible Undertaker, she had not been bothered by any ghoul or ghost, no goblin. Her eyes flickered to the bracelet on her wrist, peeking through her riding clothes. Unfortunately, she could still the occasional  _ thing,  _ but it was much more bearable to not be the center of attention. They didn’t notice her looking, nor that she had some black mark on her. 

She frowned as she came to the edge of a ravine. She was tempted to take a mighty jump, but elected to turn around. Even though Constantine was a mighty horse, even he was getting tired, sweat beginning to form on his flanks. Charlotte petted him down, then turned to go on one of the paths home.

Jane had told her, once they had settled in the country house, that Charlotte would need to prepare to be cleansed. In order to erase the demon trace, and protect herself from those types of attacks, she would need to be more diligent with her church attendance. That would shock her father, since they both tended to be rather skeptical of the virtues of the Sunday Worship. But it was what had to be done. 

The largest church in the Area would be by the Duke of Norfolk’s estate. If she wanted to go smaller, there was Bosham, but it tended to be old. This was true for Botolphs. Chichester had some impressive history...  but it was way too far. So she’s have to suffice with some of the more religious sect of Sussex. There were a few suitors here, but they still were far below her station, and her father wouldn’t even consider them. 

An hour or so later she was met back at the mansion, the stable relieved to see her. Even though she was supposed to have an escort, they could never manage to keep her in their sights. Often, the stable hands would reprimand Constantine for being so willing to dash away with the Lady. He often responded with snorts, and the horse variation of snickers and and his own brand of loftiness.

Jane met her at the side entrance, and Charlotte, feeling calmer and collected, led herself be led into one of the numerous libraries. This one was specifically for historical texts, having both Western and Eastern histories. Her father liked to collect as they came out, and even so, this one was nearly full. 

Jane helped her sit down at a table, and was pleasantly surprised when she clapped, another maid bringing in tea and biscuits. Sunlight shone thinly through green drapes, lamps lighting the books. Jane opened the curtains so that more light could get in as the second maid left.

“Are we going to be here for awhile?”

“Yes mistress, I find that it is a good cover, since you are always reading.”

“Indeed. But I assume that history will not be my subject?” Jane nodded, then turned to a bookshelf, pulling out a gold leafed book. Charlotte’s mouth opened, recognizing it.

“Oh Jane, that’s so naughty. You shouldn’t be stealing from Lords!” Jane smirked, then her face turned serious. 

“Lady Charlotte, please.” The girl put down her tea. 

“Okay, sorry, go on.”

Jane nodded, opening the first page. Charlotte lifted her head to get a look. “Yes, normally taking books would be frowned upon. However, this book doesn’t belong to Lord Druitt.”

“What?” Charlotte would have liked to tell her that that would be preposterous, but at this point, she had seen too many nasty demons to  _ not  _ consider that Jane could be right. 

“Indeed. This book was planted by the demon who...  _ marked you. _ It’s a sort of history between you and the specific demon.” Charlotte raised an eyebrow. 

“Excuse you? I think I’d remember if I had been cavorting with demons.” Jane gave a slim smile, then walked over to lay the book before Charlotte. She looked eagerly at the first page, which was simply titled,  _ Principium.  _ There were golden gilded flowers along the edges, and well as another colored illustration. This clearly showed a young female, halo bright, wings stretched out. 

“It’s not from this life. And it would be blasphemy to say that you, even in past lives, had even glances down to their level. However, you have had past... interactions with him. A strange friendship that turned into a bet of sorts.”

“So... Why does this exist? And why would he target me?” To Charlotte’s surprise, Jane shrugged. 

“I don’t know much, to be honest. I haven’t read it, because it is personal to you. As for your second question, I believe that the  _ creature  _ loves you.” Charlotte folded her arms, her face in a sarcastic frown.

“That seems like a contradiction.”

“Yes, Lady.” Jane smiled. There was no real way to know, as this was only her second life. 

“I don’t know if I dare read it. Will  _ it  _ be drawn here?” Jane shook her head. 

“I doubt it. It doesn’t seem to have that sort of feel about it. I think it must of been a gesture of affection. I hope that it will open you mind, and help you remember and be purified before the demon tries to seduce you.” Charlotte shivered, the pale face, dark red eyes flashing into her mind.

“What will happen...?”

“Another question m’afraid I’m not qualified to answer. Most demons are only concerned with eating souls, not mating with them.” Charlotte stood, the book in hand. Jane looked at her in surprise. 

“Then I want to read this in my room, where I can’t be bothered. Papa is out for the next few days, on business. Have send to my room, but only you should enter. Tell the staff that I am sick, or something.”

“Of course m’lady.”

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

“Of course Sir.” Sebastian bowed his head as the young Phantomhive boy took the letter from him. Opening it, the child frowned. 

“It seems as though my work has just expanded. But if the queen wishes her favorite watchdog to go,” Ciel gave a wry smile “Then I must go.”

“Trouble, my lord?” The boy sighed.

“It seems like the Duke of Norfolk has been up to some strange things lately. Rumors of trafficking, illegal drugs and such.”

“Any orders, my Lord?”

“Yes, we are to go to Sussex and scout out, and if necessary, resolve this problem for Her Majesty. Fetch the carriage, and ready my belongings. No staff is necessary.” The demon bowed, but frowned. The house would be a wreck when they returned.  

But then his face turned up.

“The Norfolk Estate in near the Duke of Sussex’s house, correct?”

“Yes, I will ask him if we can stay there. He is part of  _ Aristocrats of Evil _ , and he has already gone there.”

“Splendid, My Lord.”

 


	6. The Lady, Zealous

**Chapter 6: The Lady, Zealous**

 

The french gothic cathedral was tall, buttressed, and rather Catholic. The old Duke of Norfolk had wanted a Cathedral to match his lavish castle, and spared little expense. Tall, stained glass windows, towering ceilings, a golden interior. It had seemed excessive when he first saw it. Now she had to wonder if the old man was onto something.

The inside was white marble, thin veins of purple laced like spiderwebs unto the smoothly hewn stone, giving the place the ethereal air of what Charlotte could only hope was actual piety. She had little patience for the somewhat zealous devotion those dedicated to churches held themselves. But even she could feel the devotion that the Duke of Norfolk predecessors had lavished. Even now as she looked to the ancient Duke, she seemed to give a small smile, feeling the strange beginnings of reverence. With all she had turned up her nose in her youth, she now felt humbled by the previous harassment at the hands of actual demons. And if demon themselves existed, then pray, why not God?

Charlotte was prompted out of her revere by Jane tenderly giving her a push to a forward pew, to which to walked towards. Nobility, such as she, was expected to show patronage as such, and of course she would be relegated to the front. 

The Old Duke of Norfolk eyes widened as he recognized her, more then aware that the Duchy of Sussex care little for his devotions. He was quick to raise himself, his attendant looking quite dismayed. His Lordship had been in poor health, leaving most of his duties to his sons, but they old man refused  _ not  _ to go to his greatest pride, the church.

Charlotte, seeing the old man, and aware of his fragility raised her hand, motioning him down. 

“ Lord Uncle,” All nobility was somewhat related, “Do not think I am here to cause you mischief.” This was said with such a cheeky grin, the old man couldn’t help but give an airy chuckle, motioning her to sit next to him on the front row. 

“Good Lord child. You have become a beauty Charlotte! How long since I have seen you girl?” She gave a shrug, remembering perfectly her father had avoided the Duke of Norfolk since an unfortunate Christmas where his heir was found cavorting on the dinner table with a common maid. “I wonder at your purpose though. My Eldest has just returned from out of the country.” Charlotte couldn’t help but grin. Yes, the boy had been sent to a very Catholic boarding school in Italy, if she was right.

“I hate to dash your hopes, Good uncle, but I am actually here out of curiosity.”

“Truely? You were always pleasant, but with little interest to the more religious set.” Charlotte gave another offish wave with her hand, swishing her fan lightly.

“I have discovered a new desire for the more pious roads. While you are right, my interests are general more... secular, I can’t help but wonder at the  _ power  _ a church may have.” The Duke gave another laugh.

“Many swear by the Church of England, but you can’t go wrong with traditional. Would you be kind enough to stay by me? I would love to be a great cause of jealousy. My sons have always adored you.” Charlotte smiled, and Jane bowed, moving to the back of the giant rectory, holding the lady’s bad. 

“Yes, I’m hoping I find that mass will cure all problems.” Charlotte was shocked to find the old man, though frail, more than a match for all her witticisms. She had forgotten that her love of church had not made him a bore, just a bit judgemental of those who could not adhere to his morals. He, himself, was also delighted at the company.

More people shuffled in, people of the town under the Duke, pious neighbors of standing, and a few family members. The wife of the Duke had long been dead, but Charlotte grinned as she recognized Charles, the second oldest. His brown hair was longer then she remembered, but he retained his sly eyes, and she could tell he had lost none of his humor.

“Well well, if it isn’t her most gracious Lady of Sussex. What are you doing here?”

“Cheeky cad. If I don’t Batty-Fang you, you’ll be lucky!” Charles gave a laugh, sitting behind her, at a respectable distance. “I am here for the services of course.” He smirked, not quite believing her. 

“If you’re not careful, my pretty Lottie, Father will make you stay for all of  _ the services _ .” She gave a dismissive wave.

“You’re more a Bricky then I cousin, but I am sure I shall manage.” It was exactly what Charlotte had expected.

“Lady Charlotte.” She turned, and well the old Duke who couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the slang both youth had. Charlotte stopped, her fan hand falling.

“Ah, you remember Edward, my first born, don’t you Lady Charlotte?” She gave a slight nod, her eyes barely blinking. But in a moment she stood, hand out and seemingly normal.

“Eddie, it’s been a long time.” He nodded, giving a noble bow.

“I profess, Lotte, it has only made you more exquisite.” To her horror she flushed red with pleasure when he kissed her hand. Where she had a good rapport with Charles, she had always seemed rather close with his elder brother until he was caught with the flirt.

Time had made her a great beauty, but it had transformed him into a soft of adonis. Thick brown curls fell over his tall brows, his eyes a golden fawn. He was tall, shoulders wide, but not thinned out for it. She turned her face down.

“I shall have to thank you for such a compliment, though I profess, I am startled by how different you seem.” She heard Charles scoff.

“Yes, Charlotte. Notice his colorful cravat. You’ll see poor Eddie is  _ quite  _ the rage in fashion, and with the abroad ladies.” Edward straightened up, and Charlotte once again turned, coolly to sit down. Yes, she had no doubt he was as Charles said. She had to admit, that he was so handsome even she was in tatters. 

“I’ll beg your pardon, Charles, to not say such nonsense. As father will attest, school has quite mended my ways.” He turned his smiles back to her. “I profess that I have come to my senses about duty these past few years, but Charles only sees the bad in me. I’ll credit it due to his recent involvement in the politics.”

Charlotte looked to Charles. “I am quite lost! Be straight with me.” Charles smiled, leaning back on the seat. 

“I’ve been working in place of my brother in the House of Lords. Nothing huge.” Charlotte nodded.

“Of course, I should have thought so.” Charles looked pleased, until his brother but in.

“He does have a gift for argument, but less of one with the fairer sex.” Charles flushed, but then the Old Duke called them to attention, the ceremony ready to start. Edward turned, sitting on the opposite side of his father, but giving her a dazzling smile.

Charlotte was amazed by how much she remembered. She would have been less happy to know a certain boy was approaching her Father’s Manor, accompanied by a single, immaculate butler.

XXXXXXXXXX

Lord Phantomhive was impressed with the Duke of Sussex, more so than the average aristocrate. He didn’t like to think he ‘looked up’ to any man, but the pristine manner which business with him was clean, easy, and straightforward. They held no pretenses. They worked a dirty job, cleaning up for the queen, and the old man never treated him like a child.  Much like him, Ciel heard, was his daughter. He was glad the mother wasn’t there, and he hoped the daughter would be disengaged to question why he choose to visit for such a time.

Sebastian helped the man down the carriage, than moved to carrying the luggage. Ciel was flawlessly escorted by an old butler to the Duke, who was ready for him. In moments he was seated, offered tea and the other numerous delicacies that he accepted. The Duke’s staff, house, chef, and business were all things that the young earl greatly envied. He could not get by without Sebastian, of course, by other competent staff would do wonders for his sense of relief- he expected his own staff to have destroyed his home before his return. 

Ever presently, the conversation started, and the Butler quietly settled the Earl’s suite, memorized the grounds, and was pleased to find the Lady Charlotte was at church. He gave a thin smile to that, but resumed his duties at his master’s side.

There would, after all, be plenty of time. 


	7. The Lady, Franitc

 

**Chapter 7: The Lady, Frantic**

 

It was no little that she allowed Lady Charlotte let Edward take her home. Even Jane was more than a little enthralled by the Norfolk golden child. Charlotte was rather charmed, Edwards candid forward friendship towards little ‘Lottie’ was obvious. She liked the attention, but wasn’t quite sure about Edward. After all, which man could leave his love of philandering women?

But she wasn’t opposed to being charmed. 

This was the main cause of most of her pain. Perhaps if she had paid more attention; Perhaps if Jane had not been caught off of her guard, perhaps so many things. It didn’t make a difference. Neither Maid or mistress was prepared.

The carriage pulled to a smooth stop in front of the Sussex mansion, and with little thought Charlotte bid her goodbyes, ready to bask in sun for the rest of the day. The footman helped her down, and she turned to the mansion doors, Jane behind her. She assumed the regular footman was open the door, ushering them in. 

So when the door opened and she rushed into the arms of mousetrap, she was not prepared. 

 

First, the door slammed in Jane’s face, effectively locking her outside. This caused her great alarm, and she finally snapped back into herself. She had to run to the other, servants entrance, which also turned out to be locked. She then proceeded to break a window and crawl into the kitchen to find her lady.

 

Second, Charlotte, after having the door slammed behind her immediately turned to reprimand the careless servant who did such a thing. She had barely turned to give a piece of her pristine vocab when she lost her voice.

 

Third, The man in the black butler suit smiled, maroon eyes gazing down at the stunned women he called his. The slight smile on his face betrayed nothing, but his eyes revealed that his intentions were less than pleasant. 

 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

_ “Ad victoriam-” _

 

_ Charlotte’s vision went funny. Her mind went to the Gold book, and the pages seemed to open of their own volition. Her hair was a deep brown, long and pinned to curl. The modest Palla covered most of it, but the little that shown was enough to make several men watch her weave her way through the crowd with several servants.  _

_ She looked to the side and saw him, tall with several scars. They caught eyes for a few minutes and she moved on. Ever since she  _ remembered  _ it had made sense. He couldn’t leave her. He felt guilt, or something akin. It amused her, that the demon had such sentiments for her, an angel in human form. He wouldn’t approach her yet. Not in this century. This is the century when the Savior of mankind would come. The demon would shortly be cast back to the dimension he lived. She had hoped he would forget her this next time. Three life times had been more than enough to convince others.  _

_ She felt him following her still. As she reached her house she motioned for her servants to leave her. Still, he was just out of sight. _

_ Finally, tired of the game, she beckoned to him. Silently, knowing he was caught, he appeared. He held a slim book in his hands as he appeared.  _

_ “You should stop this game.” The gold on her arms glittered brightly. He could not come any closer as she was guarded so well. He left the book on an ornate wooden stand. He said nothing, but gave a small smile, his dark toga stark against the white marble of her room. _

_ “I am so humbled you deigned to notice me.” _

_ “After several hundred of years It’s becoming impossible to ignore you. Why are following me still?” _

_ “My apologies. I just can’t seem to ignore you.” The smile turned positively devilish as she narrowed her eyes.  _

_ “Leave please.” _

_ He couldn’t deny her request. But he wasn’t about to go very far. _

 

XXXXXXXXXX

 

Charlotte slowly came back to herself. She felt the bed spread beneath her hands, covering her. She knew she was in one of her nightgowns, and the back of her head hurt like hell. She strained to open her eyes. She remembered his face, the shock activating some deep inside her. The demon. Where was she? Her vision came back, and she was surprised to see her father at the end of her bed. Her father looked relieved as she opened her eyes.

“Good god Charlotte. You had us worried.” She wanted to lean forward, but a hand fell over her forehead. Jane leaned into her view, face grim. 

“What happened papa?”

“You got a shock. Jane found you-” Jane nodded, and continued for the Lord

“Yes, milady. Poor servant of the Lord Phantomhive-” Jane’s eyes gave her the warning, “surprised you. They be staying here lady.” The Lord of Sussex nodded, standing. 

“Yes, I should go back and assure Lord Ciel that all is well. He was angry that his servant was so careless.” Charlotte nodded, and Jane assured him she would take care of the lady. As her father walked out, Jane put a cold compress on her head. As the door clicked Charlotte turned.

“What in the seven h-?” Jane waved her down.

“Don’t be vulgar. This is certainly an unhappy coincidence,” Charlotte snorted, “But there are more important things we should discuss. Let me update you.”

“Please.”

“When you entered you were surprised by the demon. The demon is employed by the child Lord Ciel, who is here on business. No doubt he would have attempted to do something, but he wasn’t able to touch you due to the ring.” Charlotte’s eyes flickered down to the ring on her hand. 

“It worked?”

“Yes, the Undertaker must have been mistaken about its strength. Unfortunately, because he wasn’t able to touch you, when you collapsed, and you hit your head.”

“Curses.”

“Indeed.”

Charlotte frowned. “What should we do now?” 

Jane grimaced. “We have two choices. We wait it out, or you get married in the church. If you do so, your fate is once again set, and he may not interfere.

Charlotte made a face.

“Good lord, you don’t mean-” Jane nodded.

“Yes, Edward Norfolk.”


	8. The Lady, Cultured

 

**Chapter 8: The Lady, Cultured**

 

Feigning sickness was an easy go-to with Charlotte’s mother. It had gotten her out of countless awkward almost-proposals, petty flirtations, and sick-a-fantic writers of social columns- people who didn’t match up to her banter, wit and interest in learning. Charlotte sat pensively on the window sill, eyes re-reading the page she had open.

Truly, she thought, the worst society had to offer a young rich woman. 

 

That was until she discovered that demons existed. Her eyes looked at the chapter heading again.  _ Chapter Two; Greece.  _ She gave a cynical smile at the picture of a young women, hair painted red, like a storm, scrolls in arm. Behind her a painfully thin slave looked on, nothing about him interesting... Except his eyes. The same red the artist used to give the women her mane of flames, were used for the man’s hungry eyes. 

Her pulse started to beat rapidly, and suddenly she felt as sick as she had said she was to her father when he visited her. And the same excuse to the Norfolk boys. Her heart beat even more crazily, thinking of what Jane had advised her to do.

And now she  _ knew  _ that feigning sickness would not fool the hell fire that had decided to pursue her. And her father didn’t find ‘female hysteria’ a reasonable excuse for her not to leave her room. Not often did her free wheeling father make it a point to entertain like her mother. As much as her father loved her mother, Charlotte and her father were ahead of their time. But after two days of Jane bringing her food, her father called for her. 

“Your father won’t be pleased if you don’t show.” Jane looked at her ward, long hair pinned lightly, slim fingers reading the damned golden book. Jane hated that book, but Charlotte couldn’t seem to tear herself away.

Those bright eyes glanced up to the older women. “ Yes.” She nodded slowly, though her mind was far away. Pensively she slowly closed the book. Her cream gown, muslin for the air that had grown cold in the last few days, straightened as she stood. “Is the Earl... and his servant still here?”

“I’m afraid not miss.” The young women frowned, stepping forward, away from window, leaving the book in the sunlight. Jane noticed that the Lady never read it at night, and she always felt a sense of relief when it closed. She breathed heavily as Charlotte walked past her, almost as if there was nothing in the world that could scare her.

But underneath, she knew the feelings that must have been crawling under the angels smooth skin. Like cockroaches, the infestation of the demon had been growing, squirming to discover it’s power. Jane’s mouth went into a thin line. At least in that regard she and the girl would be safe. No demon could press into the young women’s territory that had been so thoroughly graced since she had been born. Even though her stomach filled with bile every time she had to past the wolf in sheep’s clothing, she gained much satisfaction knowing that smile was just as fake as hers. But still, his hooded eyes mocked her, dared her to overstep her bounds in her promises. He didn’t understand their God- Demons of his caliber never had understood the Great King of Kings plan. Agency, a blessing and a curse all at the same time- The Demon couldn’t simply possess Charlotte’s soul with no contract, and could not touch her with the sacred gold.

Charlottes eyes darted down the familiar light filled hall, cleaner then she had ever remembered seeing it. She was not blessed with the ability to feel where the demon lurked, but she since she had awoken into that shadow filled, she had set her mind to planning.

There was the easy way out, one that did make her a bit giddy. Marriage. But inexplicable she had also been drawn to the  _ book.  _ The one that seemed to grow more and more vivid every time she dared read. Like one of those new age paintings from france where the colors were too lucid for comfort, making her actually feel amazement when she had been gifted one. It was of a world that dared not wholly reveal itself at once, but rather slowly unrobe on a storm filled night to the leering eyes of those unready.

The first chapter surprised her. She had been expecting something from one of her history lessons. A dry rendition, maybe some poorly thought poetry. Who knew what demons thought off? Instead, she was captured, or pulled into a dreamlike tale of Egypt. A high priestess who discovered a demon in disguise. An unexpected friendship which had the beginnings of what could be called love. 

Then, disaster for the demon. The woman forwent her titles and heritage to join a faith that would later be cast out. The crossing  _ under  _ of a sea with red water, a power that few men had known. The longing that had turned into more than mere loneliness. 

The next hadn’t been much different. It followed the same pattern- A unique women, often ahead of her time, meeting the demon, then choosing God over him. 

Parting from Jane, Charlotte nearly slid down the banister as she stepped down the steps to the dining room. As she looked up, as the slight movement below, she got her first real look at the demon who was determined to eat her soul. 

Which, she had figured, is what he wanted. After all, no demon could truly feel love, and felt relief believing so. 

Her breath caught, and she stopped as she felt a shock go up her back. He was like a Jane Austen character. And while she was embarrassed to admit her admiration for Mr. Darcy, she still had a weakness for dark haired men. 

But, she thought, men like that didn’t exist. With a shock, she realized...  _ They didn’t.  _

He was tall, dark, and understated. He towered, form slim but fit  in all sable. Everything about him was some shade of coal. Feathery ebony hair carefully smoothed into place, dark lips with an even darker smile gracing them. And even worse was those eyes, holding the complete absence of light. Her butler suit was immaculately brushed and straight, not a wrinkle in the fine cloth. 

Yet, despite the obsidian somberness that would have made others look dingy, seemed to embrace the melancholy look, as sleek as a raven. 

She was alone. Jane was not allowed to use this stairway, and it would seem abnormal if she were to turn and run. Behind the demon was the Earl Phantomhive, obvious on his way to dinner before she had intercepted them.

Thankfully, this same Lord Phantomhive was a quick kid.

“Lady Charlotte, it’s been a while.” The demon stepped behind the boy, and finally Charlotte had the strength to tear away from his dark eyes.Looking at Ciel was a relief.

“Yes! Last time I saw you... things were much different.” She saw the boy’s face turn dark, and immediately switched conversation. After all, his parents had been alive last time they met- and he didn’t have a demon butler. “But now, to what do we owe this pleasure?” She stepped in front of him, putting her back, valiantly to the demon. Jane had promised that he could not harm her while. She could almost feel the smile it had on. Which was a strange contrast to the new Lord Phantomhive. Ciel hadn’t smiled once since she saw him. 

“Business.”

“Ah yes, papa is so pleased with your company.” She saw Ciel smile, for the first time, and mentally shook hands with herself. “Are you trying to bribe him into helping you with your next one?” Ciel gave another smile, this one more strained.

“Something like that.”

They reached the open door, where Charlotte saw her father sitting at the head of the table and immediately went over, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

“Glad you’re well darling.” He said motioning her to sit next to him. Ciel took the other side, nodding. “I heard you talking business with my daughter Ciel.”

“Yes, a little, but nothing to detailed. If I remember Charlotte, she was twice the wit, and would make any of my ideas look silly.” Charlotte grinned, feeling lighter. Her mother was good friends with Ciel’s mother's. Her smile dampened a bit as the butler closed the doors, likely to keep in heat. He didn’t stay long, turning to the servants doors. She felt much better after he had left. 

“So I am to be surprised! I’m excited to face you in chess again!” Ciel seemed lighter too, like he was going to say something, but then the butler stepped inside again, arms full of food.

“Ah Charlotte,” Her father turned to her, taking a sip of tea. “You’ll be amazed by how deft Young Phantomhive’s butler is- Sebastian Michaelis correct?” The butler nodded, setting down the first course. Charlotte hid her face, taking a drink of water. Sebastian seemed like a common enough name.

He was quick, setting down each plate with expertise. But Charlotte could have sworn she felt the breeze of his hand glide across her back, but felt nothing. She didn’t turn her eyes to the man, looking down at the plate.

“Thank you sir, but I am simply  _ one hell  _ of a butler.” His voice was smooth, the ability to say the perfect thing like another hand. She let her eyes glance to him, and turned once again to the food when she caught his black eyes. “This evening’s dinner of a first course is mint soup, which will be followed by roast chicken with a cranberry jelly, later followed by a pastry drizzled in chocolate with a strawberry and cream filling.” 

Oh good lord. Was there anything  _ not  _ appealing about this man? Despite the fact he was a demon?

 


	9. The Lady, Averous

**Chapter 9: The Lady, Averous**

 

 

The evening didn’t proceed much better. She’d take a few bites of the exquisitely prepared meal, smile politely at the stiff young Lord Phantomhive, and contribute to a conversation which seemed to be superficial at best. Clearly her father and Ciel were putting on a show for her benefit. She didn’t know why the little lord was here, nor  _ why  _ his butler was apparently a demon who currently was standing discreetly in the corner, opposite or Jane. But while Jane could hardly conceal her distaste, the butler, no,  _ Sebastian Michaelis,  _ had the most demure smile on his face, occasionally filling drinks. He was enviably professional in his tasks, and she could she her father was more than pleased with the excellence that was shown.

Charlotte had plenty of poise, whipped into her at a young age, but it was hard not to whip her head when the butler would slide past. The occasional glances he gave signaled no preference. For a moment, she could image that he was just a very proficient man.

Until he passed desert. She hadn’t been able to stop herself from eating the food, and she had seriously doubted he had poisoned her things. He couldn’t touch her while she had her strange gold trinket on. And Jane had given a slight nod for her to continue. No need to make a scene. Just keep calm until the Lord left.

The desert he placed in front of her father was divine looking. The chocolate was drizzled into a pleasant abstract pattern, the strawberries and cream designed to create his initials. Ciel’s was rather plain, just a small pirouette design. He didn’t seem to mind and she give a small smile as he dug in. There was his true age.

Both she and Jane’s eyes widened when the butler carefully leaned beside her, a coy smile at his dark lips. Dark hair fell over pale skin, dark eyes seeming to glow. A pristine white glove set down her plate.

“A rose for the rose of Britain.” A deep flush of red covered her face, her cheeks turning a vibrant red. And to add to her shame, her father laughed at the butler catching her off guard. But her father could not see what see saw. From everyone else’s point of view, he had handed her an ornate dessert, in the shape of a budding flower.

But from her view, over the top, the flower formed the shape of something that would cause the most scandalous woman at court to gasp. Not that she ever paid much attention to such vulgar insinuations, but her face went even redder.

Her hand shot out, and her fork embedded through the fine dessert. Her father coughed, and charlotte blinked then looked at him.

“Forgive me. I’m afraid I got excited at the elegance of such a dish.” She lowered her head, noting that the Earl Phantomhive was giving his servant a look, before going back to move around the sugar. She had no appetite at this point.

After a short silence, Jane giving the butler angry glares, the butler giving soft smiles, and Ciel finishing eating, her father stood.

“Shall we retire? I’m afraid, my darling, that the Lord Phantomhive and I still have business to discuss. Charlotte followed suit, taking her linen napkin off her lap and laying it down on the seat.

“No worries father, I shall be in the library.” He nodded her off.

“We shall be in the salon, if you need me.” She curtsied, then turned, refusing to look at the dark butler, who moved to open the door for her. As her tradition she thanked him for the meal. She was always polite to the servants, but focused on the white cravat he had tied. Perfect, simple. A demon with an angel’s touch.

“My Lady, it is but what you should have every moment.” Charlotte bit her lip, eyes traitorously flicking up. The heat in his eyes made her heats warm up again. That small hope that it had all been a bad dream, a mistake flew away, leaving her grounded in reality of the situation. Her stomach felt strange, like she was on an unsecure boat, nausea with an undercurrent of something not unpleasant. Something like what being surprised shot through her.  

He raised his hand, and for a moment she thought he was going to touch her hair, a long strand that had slipped out of her bun, brushing over her face. She couldn’t see her reflection in his eyes, like no light could penetrate inside. Charlotte bit her lip, eyes narrowing.

Jane’s hand came up around the girl’s shoulder, pulling the girl lightly by her sleeve. In a moment Charlotte was in the hall, the only thing she could see of her uncanny pursuer was that pristine white glove, which turned and shut the large oak door behind them.

The red in her face faded as she walked away, all the heat, the strange feelings turning in her, making her feel actually ill.

_ Bugger _

That was among the kinder words she thought. Jane didn’t say anything, sensing her dark mood. Her footsteps seemed to echo around the wood paneled halls, the portraits of her ancestors staring down on her, judging her. She was descended from royalty, a rare woman noble, and even more, interested and curious in the world.

The steps of Jane followed her, haunting her just as much. Finally, she reached the door to the library.

“Jane.”

“Yes, m’lady?”

“I…I….Bring me the book.”

“Charlotte, I don’t think it would be wise to lea-“

“I am protected, and the master has his beast at his knees for the moment. “ Jane looked like she wanted to fight, her lined face showing her worry. She knew the gold bracelet was worth three of her physically. But mentally the Lady was mentally struggling, all of the nonsense of the world on her shoulders.

The maid turned, rushing to her suite of rooms. As she left the hall, the girl entered the library. One of the highest ceilings in the entire place, shelves lining the walls, was the legacy her father was most excited to share with his child. Here is where she learned to appreciate thinking and learning, inventing and debating. A sanctuary of wisdom.

She reached up, pulling her hair out of its ribbon, letting waves roll down her shoulder, as well as leaning down to pull her shoes off. Clad in slippers, her feet made no sound, her dress feeling thin and gauzy.

She walked to the first shelf, feeling the old spines of the books, fingernails clicking on metal. She didn’t realize her her dress’s pins loosened, her corset falling to give a view of her breasts. She finally stopped at the window, the moon filtering through the curtains.   

“Young mistress, are you trying to tempt me?”

She turned, knowing he would come. She turned, still fearful, but her courage bolstering her. If he liked her, then she already had an upper hand.

He looked much more demonic than he had ever seemed before, tall and almost invisible in the corner he was stranding. His posture was confident, straight and direct, sable hair falling over his brow. His eyes were glowing a dark purple red.

“You are like a spider.” He smiled lightly, taking a step forward. “Creeping in from the darkness just for the thrill of scaring those who would never suspect you.” His moves were fluid, as if he could enclose her into his web.

“Then you are like a butterfly. Fluttering, wistful, hardly knowing how desirable your wings are.” She stood still, feet planted as he moved before her. Under thick lashes she gazed up at him. 

“You would clip my wings if I came near.” His lowered his face to hers, cool breath fanning over her. She shivered, shifting her posture. 

“Apt as ever, my lady.”  He stepped forward. “You wouldn’t begrudge me to admire the most beautiful women in the universe. It has been so long. You’re so very loveable, so soft.” His hand raised, almost touching her chin. 

She took a step back, her hair forming a curtains on the side of her face.  His eyes were glowing more powerfully, hypnotising. 

“I couldn’t trust you, even if I wanted too.” His smile lowered, almost imperceptibly, and his hand went to his side. His eyes softened, the glowing fading, turning into that impenetrable brown red. 

“I apologize for giving you such an impression. I can promise, I have the best of intentions.” Then, he gave a smile, making his intentions clear. She flushed. 

“Perhaps as a butler.”

“So fickle, my lady. You always have been a hard one. You’re claws are always ready, but hidden away. “ She narrowed her eyes.

“You make me sound like a cat.” He gave a strange, dreamy look, as if nothing pleased him more.

“Of course not, lady. They remind me of the best of you. Your curious soul, your craftiness. The way you manage to evade me at every turn.” 

His eyes flickered. Her own hands went into fists, and she raised her head, stepping forward. They were so close she could have kissed him. 

“I’m not who you think I am.” Her words were harsh, and she spoke as if he were the lowest of the low. “I  _ demand  _ you cease- In the name of the Almighty God.” 

 

His change in demeanor was immediate. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to happen, but it wasn’t this. Where before his demeanor had been soft, enticing, he suddenly became furious. His face didn’t change much, but it was if the air around him became like fire.

 

“Oh, really?” His words were like ice. “I think, dear Charlotte, you are misunderstand  _ your God.” _

She hadn’t realized she was pacing back until she hit the window. His pristine gloves slammed into the glass, and she heard it crack. Spiderwebs splintered behind her. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the utter blackness opening up in front her.

She could see that his red eyes had become consumed, pupils like a cat. 

“Run all you desire, my kitten. The time will come that you will  _ need _ me, and I shall remove your gold myself.”

 

      The door behind him opened. Jane stood there, mouth open in anger. The demon stepped away, hands coming to rest behind his back. He moved to the door. Jane angrily stood in the way.

“How  _ dare  _ you, you scum of hell.”

“Angels are always so polite. You are lucky, that my master is young and needs me.” With a push he removed her.

Charlotte, finally regaining her sense of horror, moved away from the window. “I will never need you- You may as well return to your hell. I’d rather die!” Her proclamation left the room dangerously cool. 

The demon turned, giving her that slight smile, devilishly innocent, hands crossed behind his back.

“If you so assume, My Lady. I shall just have to seduce you.” That made Jane gasp, and Charlotte made no time becoming offended. Jane looked as if she would tear that simpering smile of his pretty mask. 

“Don’t  _ presume  _ that a butler could have any effect on a lady.” Jane sniped. Sebastian raised his hands. 

“But I’m not any butler....I’m one hell of a butler.”


	10. The Lady, Gambling

**Chapter 10: The Lady, Gambling**

 

 

The stubborn Duchess bit her lip as she watched the decorations went up across the estate. Thick garlands and with juicy red Poinsettias imported from Mexico intertwined to make a pretty sight. Charlotte thick skirts covered the floor, picking up bits of excess pine needles as she approached her father, steps soft in her leather slippers.

It had been a very disconcerting month in the Sussex Estate. From dodging demons, to her stomach twisting uncomfortable when Edward Norfolk would drop by, she hadn’t stopped plotting. Even Jane, her most trusted ally, hadn’t been part of her  _ newest _ scheme.

A scheme that had two terrible names. 

 

Edward Norfolk. 

 

The man was dashing, but she was hesitant to encourage any sort of relationship, despite the fact that it would be the only way out of this demonic mess. She had considered pursuing Charles Norfolk, who would no doubt be her better match and likely stay more faithful, but if anything went wrong she would rather keep him safe. 

 

_ But it didn’t stop her heart from hurting when she saw the younger brothers eyes watching her every sunday be charmed by his foppish older brother. She had always had a soft spot for him. _

 

“My dear, you look like you are twisted around in your own thoughts.” Her father smiled gently at her, stopping his directions for setting up and actually letting the servants get something done.

“Ah, papa. I want to talk with you... privately.” She nodded her head, and her father frowned, not considering the servants around him any reason to keep secrets. 

“My dear, I am rather busy, and Old Norfolk and I have got some poker that we want to play soon, but I need to finish this.” She flushed and nodded, knowing it would be overly suspicious if she tried to hard to pull him away.The demon had been watching her conversations with her father all too carefully. 

 

“Well, I was just curious if... Edward Norfolk had spoken to you...”

 

As if on cue, she saw a darkly clad figure enter the room, arms full of decorations.

“Edward?” Her father said, distressingly loud. She cringed as the pale cheshire face turned, almost imperceptibly. “Of course. You know he asks after you an almost indecent amount. But it seems as though his voyages have reformed him into a good man.” The brown eyes of the demon narrowed, as if he was laughing at her behind his careful, kind facade. 

 

“Ah... well. Nevermind. Thank you Papa.” She did a small nod, then turned, headed for the door. The had sworn that the small Lord Phantomhive was visiting the Norfolk Estate until late morning and had taken his all too apt  _ watchdog  _ with him. 

 

_ Dammit _

She had made it passed the wooden door, ready to skip the manor and go riding with Jane, _when_ _he appeared out of nowhere._

 

She was so surprised that she almost fell back, barely catching herself on a small table nearby. She gave him her most snippy look, as if he was a misbehaving servant beneath her notice, and turned to cold-shoulder him. 

“Forgive me if I scared you. But your look of shock was simply  _ to relish. _ ” His voice was slick, like wet silk. He put his hands behind his back, bowing graciously before her, a light dusting on pine needles on his black jacket. She gave a smile before she could stop herself, but turned it into a frown as his insolent face. He moved, making her back up, only to brush off the stray decorations.

“ _ Demon _ .” She said rather stiffly, and he raised himself, to straighten out his hand, as if she would take it. For a moment it hung in the air, but she took a step back, jilting him. “I suppose that there would be no use in trying to ask you  _ why _ you pop out of the shadows like an indecent thing. But there is little point in trying to figure out a monster, is there?”

 

“If you assume so, young mistress. But after all, I’m not here to convince you to divulge your secrets either, am I? I suppose we let bygones be bygones.” She sniffed rather haughtily at him. 

 

“If your secrets would cease to concern me, then I wouldn’t concern myself.” He tilted his head, as if her words fascinated him. 

 

“How about we play a game, mistress, where we share a secret together then?” She turned, walking away, only for him to appear on the other side of her, hand almost bumping into her. He couldn’t touch her, but he could annoy the hell out of her.

 

“I insist, young mistress. After all, I am obliged to entertain our gracious hosts, according to my master’s orders.”

“I am expecting Jane soon.” That made his eyes flash.

 

“I’m sure your  _ angel _ of a maid wouldn’t mind if I waited with her mistress. Such a terrible world for a young woman to live in.”

 

“The only terrible thing about the world _ is you _ .” She moved her chest away. The butler had been near insufferable since the other night, always at the edges, near where she was as if he needed to observe her every move. Jane had gotten so worked up she was forced to take a sick day. 

 

“I will only leave you be for awhile,  _ if you say you’ll play with me.”  _ She crossed her arms as he leaned in.

 

“Oh, is that right.” 

 

“Yes. I want to make a wager of sorts.” 

“Betting is for foolish men.”

 

“Or women desperate to be left alone.” She paused. He had her there.

 

“What is the bet?”

 

“Let’s say if Lord Edward Norfolk decides to ask you to marry him at the Christmas ball like you expect, and you accept, you win. But if he does, but you say  _ no,  _ I win.” She gave a skeptical half laugh, which made him grin.

 

“What makes you think I’m expecting a proposal?” she said as blandly as possible. 

 

“At least give me some credit. I am one hell of a butler.”

 

“Humor me.”

 

The pale faced man gave a gri, like he was expecting her to say as much. “Shall I list  _ all _ the reasons I think I shall? Well, first, the way you interact when you see him every Sunday has led him to form and emotional attachment to you, which you have encouraged dropping hints. By the way, did you know his younger brother is devastated? He thought that you would end with him, which you might have, but I have a feeling that you’re protecting the poor lad, luck him. You see the elder brother as better fodder if any plans go south. That is rather cold, Charlotte.”

 

Her face flamed up, going an unattractive red color. “I am  _ not-”  _

 

“But, of course, that doesn’t concern me. It’s also in the local gossip papers, as Edward is commonly heard about wanting to do various things to the Lady, most which are unsightly to talk about, but to close friends and drinking buddies.”

 

“I shan’t believe a word you say. You’re a demon, a liar!” The butler smiled, stepping forward. 

 

“Funny. I usually seem to see no reason to lie. It’s humans who are deceitful and duplicitous, even for the pettiest manners. A man whose family will starve is forced to steal, then lie about it, in order to avoid a hanging. From my observations, we demons are the more honest of the two.” She was about to laugh, but he gave her a wicked smile.

 

“That’s shoddy odds on your part.” She felt her cheeks go red again, the sweat seeming to form in her tight dress. “If you are telling the truth.”

 

“Have I not been totally honest with you once? She had no reply to that.”

 

“You’re a demon.”

 

He grinned.

 

“Let me educate you on how honest  _ I can be.  _ Shall I start with the way I wish to rip of your clothes, and taste your sweet smooth flesh?” She felt her back it the wall, the butler over her, his white gloves straining. She felt her eyes widen in horror as his dark mouth breathed his words on her.

“No...” Her voice was pathetic, even to her own ears.

 

“The  _ manner _ in which I could corrupt you, and your red lips would be screaming for more? How about the way that I would hold your thrashing hips  as I batter down you womanly defenses-”

 

“STOP!” 

 

There was a flash of golden light, and suddenly, the butler was ten feet away, holding the area on his chest where she hit him. She was breathing heavily, but her body was still wound up, uncomfortable. There was something she had rarely felt in her lower area, a heat that she forced to dissipate.

 

She raised an accusing hand, gold gleaming in the late morning sun.

 

“You...Stay back...” The demon frowned, but soon enough his smile was back in place.

 

“Agree to the deal, and you shan't hear a whisper of me till I come to collect my prize.”

 

She just needed him to leave, for her to collect her thoughts. She nodded her head slightly, the demon grinning.

 

“Very well done, my lady.  _ Au Revoir, _ until next time.” Rancor filled her stomach when she realized how easily she had fallen into his tricks, watching him slowly, purposely walk away.

A thought came to her mind, and she turned, rushing to her room. She pulled a thick tomb, opening the page, resting her finger on the line.

  
  


**James 4:7**

 

Sitting back, she let the book close, a thick sound masked by the whirl of activity around her. In the still library, she gave a sigh.

 

“If only you worked  _ quicker _ , God.”

 


	11. The Lady, In Love

**Chapter 11: The Lady, In Love**

 

She was alone riding out in the country, hoofs of Constantine hitting against the rugged trail that led to one of the more secluded spots of her father’s estate, the Nunnery. Jane meandered behind, her horse much less quick to attention, more demure. 

Wind caught Charlotte’s ringlets, slapping that back around her face, and she deftly twisted her face to free it. Her hat had long ago fallen, holding itself on by just a ribbon. She moved at one with her beast, jumping over the icy ponds and hazarding the dangerous snow banks.

In her saddlebag was the dreadful book, overtly passionate, and it burned a hole in her mind, embedding it’s sinful dream as if to take her captive for it’s master. Jane had become slowly more anxious about the tomb, trying to rid Charlotte of it- but the young woman couldn’t. The more she opened the gold leafed pages, the more her soul seemed to year for something delicious she had forgotten. 

But her task now was different- in her pelisse was a letter from a different man;

 

Charles. 

 

She was begging her to met him at the rectory, as it was urgent. Jane disapproved grately but couldn’t stop her. 

Ahead of her the slick path ended, and she saw the small parish, a thin stream of smoke exiting out of the chimney. She was quick to dismount, and strangely reluctant to wait for Jane, despite the warning signs. It was getting close to the time of the Christmas, but she couldn’t take a moment more in that damned house lorded over by a demon butler.

 

She ran up to the chapel door and entered quickly, closing the door behind out. She took a step forward, pulling one of her gloves off. It was much smaller than the Duke of Norfolk’s Catholic cathedral, but cozy, warm wood, and a simple cross for decoration. The only extravagant trapping was a few stained glass windows, dating back to medieval times as she was told. 

Her mind pitched, and she found herself viewing the images,  _ and they seemed to move.  _

 

_ The black death had started so softly, like a wisp of ill wind, that at the time she had thought it was another small problem that would pass in a week.  _

 

_ She was proven horribly wrong. Charlotte knew she stared at herself in the water, but her reflection was not one she recognized. On one side thick black hair luxuriously fell nearly to her waist, framing a gorgeous bronze face. The other side was bald, and the culprit was a metal knife in her hand. A thick gold ring was in her nose. _

_ Behind her a scrawny servant, crippled with age sighed. She knew immediately this was Jane- Despite the fact they were both orientals, from some exotic place she knew not. To her surprise the body moved without her will, and when she tried, she found that she was but a mere spectator in this land. _

_ She turned towards the window, a barren desert confronting her, stretching for miles in it’s enomatic. _

_ “Abdo has caught it Raqiya. You can’t think to go to him now- that what that monster wants. You know who started this plague. He always comes to destroy you.” The words were in a different language but it didn’t matter. Charlotte knew this was one of her previous lives, and this scene had played out a hundred times previously, and it would end the same as it always did. _

_ What would she sacrifice for the man she loved, the one she was destined to lose every time she discovered her purpose? _

_ She turned to the old woman, sorrow in both of their eyes. She, named Raqiya, would go on to do marvelous things that would never be documented, but this moment was something they both would bear until she or the demon who followed her broke. No scripture would be written of this day. God had cast the earth so far at this point that few angels descended to bring light. But the Archangel Zadkiel returned, and as she loved him, even now as he was doomed to die as the insignificant mortal Abdo, she would care for him. _

_ “Amina, you follow me so faithfully. What shall I do but disappoint you again by restarting this hell?” _

_ Amina, or Jane, gave the same smile, resigned, but stood.  _

_ “What am I, but a servant to the All-Mighty, and his most faithful servant?” _

 

A hand grabbed her from behind, and she jumped forward, screaming. 

 

Shaking, she turned, only to see Charles, face grinning, and her heart relaxed, melting into a strange, content puddle. “Charles you utter buffoon! I shall have you strung up!”

He grabbed her suddenly, and spun her around, then turned her in front of a chess board. 

“Only if you do it soon- Bind me as much as you please Lottie! Just bind me to  _ you. _ ” She flushed with joy. He gave a laugh and set her in one of the backwards facing pews, kneeling gallantly. He always enjoyed teasing her. “How am I to get you alone to play chess if not to steal you? My elder brother is always lurking around, and wants to ‘surprise’ propose to you tonight, so I figured I ought to tell you.” He kissed her hand.

Charlotte’s laughing suddenly paused as coldness set in. Charles’s praise had  _ pleased her _ , but the thought of Edward made her cold. 

She realized how much she enjoyed the freckles on the bridge of Charles nose, his silly fop, and smile that made his eyes crinkle and turn up as she squeezed his. He moved to go to the other side of the board. 

“Charles-” She said breathlessly, making him turn. Somehow, in the midst of her fears, her terror of the demon, she found a glimmer of light. 

Then, she moved to kiss him.

Had she done so, both she and Charles would have set out for Scotland, to be married under the anvil. Something that would seemingly bring an end to the ordeal, made her filled with hope. 

He smiled like he was the sun, soft hair falling over his head as he closed his eyes to accept her kiss.

It was him. In every time she had looked for the man she loved. 

  
  


Time moved slowly, and just before she closed her eyes she looked to the window, sun throwing colors on them. 

 

A demon was in the window, the most malicious look on his face that she had seen yet. It was a horrible grey thing, bones protruding from overly stretched skin. A thick bright red tongue fell from the mouth, sharp as nail teeth that would cut steel.

Before she would have screamed, but now she knew what it meant. 

 

If she brought Charles into this,  _ she would lose her bet to the demon _ . If she didn’t accept Edward Norfolks proposal, she would owe him...  _ something. _

She didn’t know if she could chance that- her remembrance gave her a clue to what the demons purpose ever was.

He would not not bear her to be happy.

 

Her heart seized as chapel started turning, and she saw Charles look of horror as the world went dark. 

XXXXXXXXXXX

 

“Tis a good thing that these parties are for the fashionably late.” Charlotte eyes winced as they opened, Jane sitting next to her, a cold compress on her forehead. She was in her room at the mansion, her thick drapes pulled around most of the bed. 

“Jan-”

“Stop, milady. You need to rest up. I know you are pulling a slight fever, but we need to get you ready for the ball so you may be proposed too. I got there as you fainted. Silly girl, you know better then rushing and not catching your breath! Poor Lord Norfolk had to get you in his carriage and we got you in covertly-” Charlotte sat up. 

“I love Charles.” She said straight to Jane’s face, which quickly went through a series of emotions that Charlotte couldn’t decipher. Jane eventually settled on a soft smile. “I remember him. He was always my purpose! I love him!”

“Of course you do.”

Charlotte lifted her head, hair plastered to face. “You knew I would fall in love with him, didn’t you. That’s why you encouraged me to pursue Edward- because It would break me to hurt Charles! You hoped that if I never discovered this, the cycle would end.” 

Jane stood up, her brown dress stiffly unwrinkling. She turned her face to the fire. 

“It’s time you know, Milady... the second part of the story... the one not in the book. Is your love for the same man, currently incarnate as Charles Norfolk, that is the path we are following. The one the demon will kill, and  _ why _ you never marry.”

“Oh god Jane! I have made a horrible misstep! I have promised him that I will marry Edward Norfolk! If I refuse, I shall owe him  _ something _ !”

Jane’s face grew dark.

“And now we must decide mistress, how we shall avert this evil once again.”


End file.
